


A Future to Claim

by Voido



Series: Pretty self-indulgent Inaba post canon [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Camping, Fluff, M/M, Post canon, Sequel, Sorry Not Sorry, True Ending Spoilers, more kissing under the moonlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 15:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15608907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: Long before Ryuji’s eyes meet his, Akira knows how much yet how little things have changed.





	A Future to Claim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canticle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canticle/gifts).



> Dear canticle,  
> ever since you left this wonderful "THIS is all I could ever wish for!" comment on the first fic, my brain wanted to make me write it out of Akira's POV. I dedicate it to you because you're the one who made me write this and I really, really hope you like this version, too. ;)
> 
> Dear everyone else,  
> please enjoy this piece of me being 101% self-indulgent and exploring my soft, weak boy's unconditional and never-ending love for his bff. <3  
> (Please consider reading the first fic/Ryuji's POV as well right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040604). <3

It starts pouring hardly a minute after Akira leaves his house and heads for the station. There’s something bittersweet about the rain mercilessly drumming on his umbrella, like foreshadowing for what’s to come.

He manages to crack a smile, but he knows it doesn’t yet hold up or reach his eyes. He’s not yet ready to smile.

That, however, changes drastically when he watches the train he’s been waiting for arrive at the Inaba station heights and searches for a messy blond in-between the many old people.

Ryuji steps out, looks around cautiously, but doesn’t notice him. Akira smiles, walks up to him and puts on his best act when he says:

“I’m glad you could make it.”

The words mean so much more than he could fit into saying them just once, but he hopes that for the time being, it’s enough.

He lifts the umbrella above Ryuji’s head, too — has he grown? He’s totally grown. Akira would _swear_ on anything dear to him that Ryuji used to be the same height as him, not this small tad taller.

His train of thought is interrupted by arms pulling him into a fierce hug, and it catches him off guard enough to cause him to gasp.

“You’re fulla shit, Akira!”

He smiles weakly, because it’s truer than Ryuji even knows, but before Akira can say something in return, there’s more — quieter, almost shy.

“Damn, dude. So glad to see ya.”

Sighing, he nods, chuckles weakly and wraps his free arm around Ryuji’s middle, buries his fingers into the jacket that is _definitely_ too thin for this time of the year, but decides against commenting on it. They’ll probably spend most time at home, anyway, and if needed, he has spares at home — he’s sure they’d look adorable on Ryuji, considering he’s a decent chunk more muscular than Akira himself.

They let go of each other eventually, and he immediately mourns the loss of the touch, but keeps it to himself. More than anything, he’s just glad to have Ryuji here, so he suggests.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

\--- ---

The walk back home is silent — like everything here in Inaba. In comparison to Tokyo, you could almost call this place _dead_ , and considering the feelings that Akira has for it, that word only fits twice as much as it does anyway. He doesn’t apologize for the eeriness of the place, though, because Ryuji looks comfortable enough. That is, until—

“Shit, dude! I almost forgot.”

They both stare up at the house that Akira has been forced to call _home_ ever since coming back, and even though he _tries_ to understand Ryuji’s enthusiasm, he has a very hard time seeing the place as something good.

“It’s really not that great,” he can’t stop himself from saying, voice ranging from disappointed to angry to sheepish. He knows; he knows how amazing it looks to someone who isn’t used to it, _especially_ Ryuji, who has never lived a life as seemingly fancy as this — Akira knows this, too, and all too well. But that doesn’t make this prison any better to him.

“Whatever you say, man.”

He opens the door and evades Morgana’s disappointed look. They get along well, even after all this time, but there’s only so much that a small, secluded town with horribly selfish people can give, even more so if you’re a magical cat that can talk to _some_ humans but not all of them.

“Oh? I wondered if you'd ever make it back in that weather. Not surprising that Ryuji isn't dressed properly.”

Akira swallows soundlessly. He hasn’t expected for the fighting between those two to ever stop, but he also hasn’t expected for them to pick it right back up the second they see each other.

He’s so tired of fights around him.

“At least I'm not too chicken to go out in the rain, you damn cat!”

He knows that Ryuji only defends himself, that he’s hardly ever the one to initiate the fights either way, and yet, Akira is a moment short of calling _him_ out for it, simply because he knows that the chances of Ryuji getting mad at him for it are a whole ton lower than the ones for _Morgana_ getting mad.

“Maybe I just didn't want to see your face, you buffoon!”

“Who's a buffoon you goddamn stupid-”

Sighing again, he decides that he needs to stop this before it starts. He didn’t use to interfere much in their fights in Tokyo — mainly because most of them honestly felt mindless and hardly worth it. But this time, he doesn’t have the choice to spend time with his friends whenever he wants.

It’s a week with Ryuji before life goes back to _hell_.

“Now this’ll be a fun week, won’t it,” he finally says without trying to hide the anger, the disappointment in his voice. At least they immediately stop fighting, even though he isn‘t surprised that Morgana doesn‘t look apologetic at _all_.

“Sorry, man,” Ryuji says quietly, and at least he seems to mean it, too. But Akira is busy looking after Morgana, who hisses, squints at them and leaves, heading up the stairs. It’s not like he doesn’t have the right to be angry or sad, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I…suppose he’s lonely, out here,” Akira tries carefully, shoves that emotion from himself and makes it sound like he himself is entirely fine. He keeps his eyes on the floor, doesn’t dare look up to where he fears Ryuji is disappointed as well – disappointed about him lying all this time, about pretending that things are fine when they quite obviously aren’t. But when Ryuji finally speaks up, his voice is small, considerate, his hand squeezing Akira’s shoulder so gently that it almost causes him to tear up.

“Are…you lonely?”

They both know he doesn’t need to answer, so he keeps the obvious truth to himself and smiles to himself before finally forcing himself to look up and show his friend around.

That’s the least he can do.

\--- ---

They decide to share a room.

For one, Akira is touch-starved enough that he doesn’t want to miss a _single_ potential second he can spend right next to Ryuji. For two, it’s unnecessarily sterile to be at least three rooms apart from each other in a place that’s _already_ so empty. He doesn’t doubt for a second that it would do them no good.

He keeps his act up well enough. There’s a dozen, a thousand or even a million things he wants to say, _should_ say at some point, but at the same time, he’s scared. As long as he keeps it to himself, they’re both fine. As long as he’s quiet, they can enjoy what little time they have together.

So they return to the small things they always used to do – play games, read manga, watch incredibly shitty TV shows. The first – and only, if possible – time Akira addresses the topic regarding his parents is when they’re down in the kitchen to prepare food. Ryuji doesn’t say anything, but that doesn’t mean the question is any less plastered on his face.

“There’s no one else around,” Akira explains suggestively, evading the topic of _where_ his parents are and _why_ , fully aware that he’s bitter enough to make it sound over-the tops dramatic or even sad.

He’s not going to give them that.

“I wasn’t gonna ask, man,” Ryuji replies defensively, but the look on his face suggests that he wasn’t not curious, but simply being considerate.

“It’s painfully obvious you wanted to,” Akira argues without judgment, and feels a hand on his back almost immediately after. He allows Ryuji to shove him over towards the counter so they can finally make food, and decides that _maybe_ , things don’t have to be as difficult as he fears.

Still, that doesn’t make him any less anxious when they’re back upstairs, each of them with a bowl of udon in front of them.

“We could go camping one of these days…if yo want to.”

He knows he hasn’t been the most fun lately – sparse with his replies, secluded, secretive. As much as Ryuji still means to him, _will_ always mean to him, Akira is worried that things have changed too much, that he’s pushing it, that he should keep on living in his small, lonely bubble as long as he needs to, and not bother anyone else with it.

“Whaddya mean if I wanna?”

_Damn it. He’s catching up._

“Sure, let’s do it.”

Heavy silence spreads between them, makes Akira lose any kind of appetite he may have had until now. It’s obvious how all of them has impact on both of them, how little he’s able to hide the truth from his best friend much longer. He has to spill it. He _needs_ to. But before he gets a chance, Ryuji already shoves his bowl away carefully.

“Is this…are we fightin’ or somethin’, dude? I’m…confused.”

It takes Akira’s whole composure not to flinch, jump away and run. He knows that his surprise still shows, and he wants to reply that _no, no, of course not_ , because that’s the thing in the world he wants the absolute least, but sadly, weirdly, painfully-

He doesn’t know. He simply _doesn’t know_ if they’re fighting at this point, if this is them breaking apart after all these weeks of being so far away from each other, if he has to face the sad truth of losing all that still matters to him.

“No,” he forces himself to answer, although weakly so, clings onto his shirt as if it were a lifeline to this suffocating charade, sighs shortly and shakes his head. He wants to add something, wants to go back to them doing the things they always did, enjoy their lives and each other’s company like they used to be able to.

Eventually, he feels paws on his shoulders, knows that even though Morgana is still at least as frustrated as he is, they’re friends, they live together, and they have each other’s support.

It’s as if Morgana is trying to tell him: _Do it. As hard as it is. Do it, or you’ll regret it._

“I _know_ , Morgana.”

At least the purring vibration against his skin keeps him hoping, pretending that someday, things will be fine.

\--- ---

From there on, things are alright, at least for the first three days. Akira knows how desperately Ryuji evades all extremely difficult, sensitive topics, and he does his utter best to not make it extra complicated. He swallows his bitterness whenever Ryuji mentions his mom, laughs along when he remembers a funny thing that happened while he hung out with Ann or Futaba or any of the other thieves, and forces himself not to mourn the things he doesn’t currently have, but cherish those that are right there.

He spends most of the nights awake on his own, reading or watching a documentary or just _staring_ at his best friend sleeping blissfully. Morgana rolls his eyes at it at least twelve times in three nights, and Akira can’t blame him, but he also can’t find it in himself to be ashamed.

He’s missed Ryuji so, _so_ much.

It’s on the fourth day when he wakes up to an empty room, and it takes him a long, a way too long moment to tell himself that _no, it wasn’t all a dream._ As much as he’s scared, he _knows_ the reason he’s alone is going to be something simple, and definitely not him having imagined Ryuji’s visit.

He’s not _that_ far gone yet.

When he walks into the kitchen, he finds only Morgana, trying to get the fridge open for some decent breakfast. Akira smiles and walks over to help, because he knows this one is even harder to open for a cat than the one at Leblanc used to be.

“You could have woken me up, you know.”

“Nah, you looked peaceful, for a change.”

Morgana jumps on the counter and beams at the fish that Akira offers him.

“Have you seen Ryuji anywhere?”

He _knows_ he already sounds more desperate than he should be – wherever Ryuji went, there’s not much of a chance that he _isn’t_ fine, and he’ll probably be back sooner than later, and it’s ridiculous and pathetic and _weak_ but Akira-

Akira misses him _already_.

“No. Seems like he grabbed the keys and went _somewhere_ , though.”

If it weren’t for all of Ryuji’s belongings quite obviously still being here, Akira would probably be self-loathing enough to fear that his friend had silently ditched him.

“Ah.”

He keeps anything other than that to himself, tries to shut his mind up even when it tries to make him believe that Ryuji has already had enough of him, that he’s sick of being here, of playing this game as if things were fine, that he desperately wants to go home to his mom, his _real_ friends, the place he belongs-

“Whatever your thoughts are, they’re probably irrational and wrong.”

They probably are.

That’s why Akira finds himself in the living room shortly after, comforting music filling the place like a lullaby, and closes his eyes peacefully to relax his mind. It’ll be fine. Ryuji will return anytime now, wide grin on his lips and explain his sudden disappearance with something like needing to stretch his legs and get some exercise in.

There’s absolutely no rational reason to panic.

And yet…

“What if I’m not good enough anymore?”

He barely hears his own words over the sound of the music clouding his mind.

“What if I’ve been a burden from the get-go?”

Bathing in self-deprecation, he waits and waits and _waits_ , so long that when eventually he hears _something_ , his heart skips a beat and he keeps lying there, anxiously enough to fear that there’s a one in five million chance that it might not be Ryuji but his own _goddamn_ parents.

But then there’s nothing for a moment, and he decides to return to humming calmly because that’s the best thing he can do, and then there’s a present next to him and it’s warm and it’s wonderful and the feeling of Ryuji pinching his side is _the best thing ever and-_

“This looks like good therapy.”

It sure is _some_ sort of therapy at least.

“It is. Join me.”

Ryuji doesn’t shift from where he’s settled down right next to him, but he moves his hand and runs it through Akira’s hair, and that’s way, _way_ more than enough. He leans into it, sighs contentedly and smiles, lets the music and the touch sooth his aching mind, and waits for both sound and motion to stop before he sits up, the real, honest smile still on his lips. He feels an arm being thrown around his shoulder, tilts his head curiously and hums questioningly.

“I could totally go for campin’ today, dude.”

They’re both entirely aware that things won’t stay like this forever, that soon, they will have to part again for such a painfully long time.

But maybe, as long as they make the best of the time they _do_ have…

Maybe that will be enough to last them as good memories until the next time they meet.

\--- ---

It’s a few very suggestive words from Morgana and a completely oblivious Ryuji later that Akira makes up his mind, even before they’ve fully packed and left for their trip.

_I should tell him._

That’s easier said than done, sure, but Morgana is _right_ , to say the least. It’s better to say it even though it’s difficult than to keep it in and regret it for the coming weeks and months or even forever. So much could change before they’re going to meet again, and Akira knows he shouldn’t wait until it might be too late.

So when they finally make their way to leave after making sure that Morgana has enough dry food available in case he fails to get the fridge open, much to his disappointment, by the way - “I’m a Phantom Thief, of course I’ll get it open, you useless imbeciles!” - huge gray clouds suggesting a soon-to-come rainstorm, Akira makes up his mind.

“You sure this cool with ya? I’m okay with rain, but only if you are.”

He smiles and shakes his head pleasantly.

“I’m fine with any weather as long as you’re around, Ryuji.”

For a moment, he wonders if that only sounded _overly-romantic_ in his own mind, but then Ryuji blushes slightly, starts walking faster and seems _hectic._ Akira can’t help but roll his eyes about his own naivety, because _of course_ it sounded way too romantic, because when is he ever _not_ uselessly gay for his best friend?

Eventually, though, Ryuji slows down and lets him lead the way, which is for the best because Akira knows _precisely_ where he wants to go. His favorite spot, calm and secluded, like a small clearing in the midst of the forest, with a river and, subsequently, the best spot to watch the stars from right next to it.

“This spot is good,” he declares when they reach it, gestures widely and nods as if to confirm his statement. From the looks of it, Ryuji doesn’t really know if he’s supposed to say anything to that.

“Sure. Fine by me, dude. I, err, don’t really know much about this stuff anyway?”

He’s so _tooth-rottingly_ honest, and Akira loves, loves, _loves_ it so incredibly much!

“That’s fine. There’s a river nearby and I like watching the stars from there, is all.”

His voice breaks a little at the end, because suddenly he remembers the days he’s spent here as a kid. It’s been a long, _long_ time, and somehow, it feels surreal to be back here after years, but at the same time, any place feels like home as long as Ryuji is around, too.

For his own selfish amusement, Akira accepts his friend’s offer to set up the tent, watches him fail miserably no less than three times, and eventually steps in to help because he knows he’s being unnecessarily rude.

“Damn, took forever cause’a me. Sorry, dude.”

He shakes his head eagerly, because no matter how long it took, it was endearing to watch, and he’d do it again.

“There’s _nothing_ to apologize for. Hey, let’s head over now.”

They do, and he’s glad the view hasn’t changed a bit from how he remembers it. The way down to the river is still hilly, the grass still growing wildly, single blades tingling his cheeks when they lie down on it, so close that their sides are brushing against each others, so close that their fingers almost touch, so close that Akira can’t help but smile blissfully and look over, lose himself in Ryuji’s worried yet eased features, the way he smiles but scowls, the way his hand twitches between them right before he looks over curiously-

Akira really, _really_ can’t help it.

So he reaches out, cups Ryuji’s cheek and lets his thumb trail over the salient cheekbone slowly, and finally brings up the courage to say what he feels, to voice his fears and explain how much all of this means to him.

“I never want to let you go.”

Akira’s not surprised that Ryuji’s eyes widen, that he blushes and opens then closes his mouth without saying a thing, but he sure _is_ surprised to see him lean in, to feel their noses brush against each other’s, the hot breath against his lips, the hand shyly resting on his side-

He’s so surprised, in fact, that he speaks his mind, his very first thought, without even thinking it through, unable to stop himself from smiling fondly.

“Is this an _intentional_ eskimo kiss, Ryuji?”

But before he can even _think_ about taking it back, apologizing for assuming something like that out of nowhere, Ryuji already blurts out:

“M-maybe! Y-you got a problem with’at?!”

If there’s a single thing Akira couldn’t ever find himself having a problem with, it’s this. Just them in the middle of nowhere, without anyone trying to tear them apart, without boundaries or responsibilities – just two teenagers finding love in a world so full of hatred.

So what _could_ he possibly do besides tilt his head and lean in and have their lips meet shyly, innocently, hum into the millions of emotions exploding inside him and wish for it to never end?

He knows it will end, at some point. But not right now, and that’s all that matters.

That’s why when he grabs onto Ryuji’s shirt desperately, his fingers trembling as they part, he forces himself to turn his worried scowl back to a hopeful smile.

There’s no reason to mourn this yet.

“W-well,” Ryuji starts groundbreakingly, and Akira forces himself not to laugh about it, because he loves the shyness, the insecurity, and he _understands_ that this isn’t what they’ve originally planned for to happen. To ease the mood, he finds himself saying:

“That’s quite nice.”

It works – Ryuji laughs and nods, as if an invisible weight were falling off of his shoulders at the casualty of it.

“Y-yeah. It kinda is.”

The words make Akira feel all weak and tingly inside, like a bonfire softly warming up his soul after so many longing, lonely weeks.

“I…uh, I suppose I get Mona’s hint now.”

They both laugh at that and fall back into the grass comfortably. The moon shines down on them like a blessing, star after star presenting them wonderful pictures on the sky. A soft breeze washes through the waters beneath their feet, provides them with a kind of white noise that feels like home.

When their fingers touch, carefully, timidly intertwine and come to a rest between them, Akira realizes that maybe, things haven’t changed that much.

And maybe…

Maybe they don’t have to.

\--- ---

Time flies in a moment, at least that’s what it feels like. They spend a whole day running until late into the afternoon – because, according to Ryuji, _if life gives you a sunny day, y’are bound t’make use’f it! -_ another watching a new action movie in the theaters only to binge the totality of the series upon getting home, and many more of the likes, into the middle of the night. And _maybe_ the movies become more and more irrelevant as time passes, and _maybe_ they end up spending more time next to or all over each other the later it gets.

 _Maybe_ Akira couldn’t mind that any less.

That, of course, doesn’t make the last day any easier for either of them. They don’t mention what’s going to happen, they silently do every preparations early to have some more time to spend with each other, but eventually, there’s no way around letting go.

It’s only when they reach the station that Akira finally feels the need to say something, and he does his utter best to sound incredibly smooth when he reminds Ryuji of the last day before his departure from Tokyo.

“So? Told you there’s nothing to see here.”

He looks surprised, but only for a moment, knocks their shoulders together and laughs. It’s so carefree it almost hurts, especially when he seemingly sees is as a good opportunity to reach out take Akira’s hand, although he’s blushing _fiercely_ while doing so.

“Yeah, well, my point’s standing. You’re here.”

Akira hums, smiles contentedly and nods, not expecting any more than this, because it’s already good and blissful and _perfect_ , but it’s Ryuji, so it’s not much of a surprise that he makes it even better, like he makes _everything_ better. They come to a halt, he drops his luggage and pulls Akira into another wonderfully comfortable hug, and silently says against his ear:

“That’s all I could ever ask for.”

For a moment, Akira is sure that this, the feelings washing through him, are what _being killed softly_ means, and he’s unable to bring forth anything other than a silent, pleased, loving hum, but he hopes that it’s still enough. They stay like that until the train audibly arrives, he buries his face into the crook of Ryuji’s neck and sighs, because it hurts but at the same time it doesn’t.

He’s weak, and yet, he’s invincible as long as he has a place he’ll one day return to, somewhere, some _one_ who means _home_ to him.

It’s shortly after the doors close, shortly after the train departs and Akira loses sight of Ryuji’s extraordinary hair, his wide grin, his eager waving, that he reaches for his phone with a fond, almost silly smile on his lips and a faint red creeping up on his cheeks.

He types with trembling fingers, with a thrilling sort of sensation overwhelming him.

 

_It’s you._

You _are all I could ever ask for._

 

When he gets a reply only seconds later, turns away from his phone as if Ryuji could see his blush deepen right through the chat app, Akira knows, _decides_ that whatever hardship life ends up throwing at them, they’ll conquer it.

Together.


End file.
